Tag Along
by OughtaKnowBetter
Summary: Complete story. Does anybody like it?


Disclaimer: they own all, I own nothing. No profits or gain, etc. 

Tag Along

By OughtaKnowBetter

The pain was incredible.

Iolaus didn't realize that the scream echoing off into the distance was his until moments later. And then wondered how he'd done it, since he had no breath left even to whimper. The only saving grace was the immense relief now that his dislocated shoulder had been put back into place.

"You idiot," Hercules said chidingly, concern deep in his voice. "Don't you know better than to try to keep up with three demi-gods? Whatever possessed you to do such a stupid thing?"

Iolaus took advantage of his breathless state not to answer. It was rhetorical, anyway. The reason was obvious: Dempsius and Demagius were, like Hercules, demi-gods. Which meant they could run faster, lift more, fight harder, and over all out-perform a certain small blond hunter who had ended up tagging along behind, trying to keep up like a little brother.

Well, maybe the reason wasn't quite so obvious, at least not to Hercules. Iolaus gritted his teeth as Hercules gently fitted a make-shift sling around his arm, binding it to Iolaus's body. Hercules didn't seem to notice that Iolaus had ended up with all the scut work on the trail, waiting almost hand and foot on the twin demi-gods who had joined them just outside of Thebes. Iolaus was the one who built the fire—from scratch, not with a whisk of a hand like some gods and goddesses he could name—and piled the stones around to keep it from scooting off into the brush. Iolaus was the one to cook the food, serve it, and wash the dishes afterward while Dempsius and Demagius engaged Hercules in games of chance and skill. Amazingly enough, Hercules always seemed to win at those games. Granted, Hercules was good, but with Dempsius and Demagius he was on even ground. Unlike Iolaus, those three were equals.

Take this latest incident, for example. It was pretty typical of what usually happened to Hercules and Iolaus. The frantic villager, this one a boy of nine, came running up to them, crying that bandits were attacking his village, looting and pillaging and generally doing what bandits did. Hercules and Iolaus immediately agreed to help, as did Dempsius and Demagius. All for one, and one for all, and that sort of thing. Hercules was pleased to accept the help of the two demi-gods.

The fight was likewise fairly predictable. Hercules and friends were outnumbered four to one, so it really wasn't a fair fight. For the bandits, to be honest. After all, what was a poor bandit to do when faced by three demi-gods?

So why did the biggest and meanest of the bandits decide to take on Iolaus, instead of one of the demi-gods his own size? Iolaus didn't mind; more than one giant had taken a dive by Iolaus's hand. He was having a good time kicking and punching, until Dempsius accidentally stumbled into him. That threw Iolaus off balance, and the bandit giant took advantage. He grabbed Iolaus by the arm, dislocating his shoulder neatly, and threw Iolaus into the wall of a hut which promptly collapsed over the blond hunter. Iolaus thought he was finished until a large demi-god appeared to spin the bandit around and down him with a hay-maker.

"Thanks, Herc," Iolaus started to say, when he realized who it was. "Thanks, Demagius," he stuttered, turning it into the proper name.

"You're welcome," Demagius said. There was an unreadable glint in the demi-god's eye. There was another glint of the same type in Dempsius's. Iolaus felt a cold chill run through him, despite the heat of battle. Had Dempsius's stumble not been an accident?

* * *

"We'll spend the night here," Hercules decided, looking around at the devastation left by the bandits. Huts had been collapsed, straw awnings littered the ground. Broken pottery shards lay in a sharp and dangerous heap with mothers warning their children to keep clear. "We can help the villagers clean up, and Iolaus can rest his arm."

Dempsius frowned. "Demagius and I are expected in Athens day after tomorrow, Hercules. Wasting the hours here will put us behind."

Demagius nodded in agreement. "The three of us should go ahead. We can leave your friend"—Iolaus could almost hear the word 'pet' instead—"here to recover, and we can pick him up on the way back."

Hercules was puzzled. "But that won't help the villagers clean up their village. Besides, their head man Joculares had already invited us to a feast to thank us for our help."

"What food do they have left?" Dempsius pointed out. "Let's not strain their supplies further by staying with more mouths to feed."

"Let's not insult them by saying no," Hercules shot back.

* * *

There wasn't much food, and the gaiety was strained, but the sense of relief covered a lot of rough edges for the party. Most of the houses had been re-righted, and their furnishings put back in place. Musicians toted out their instruments and struck up a merry tune, and the young girls and their not so young mothers crawled out of hiding to draw the youths of the town into dance. Several in particular crowded around all three demi-gods, inviting them to join in. 

Iolaus sat on the edges of the party, people-watching. His shoulder ached, and his one attempt at dance told him to sit the next several out. But he watched Hercules closely; his large friend was somewhat shy around women and usually needed to be prodded into enjoying the company of the fairer sex. Tonight Hercules was the center of attention, being asked to dance by several of the ladies. Iolaus smiled. Hercules looked as though he was having a good time. And the son of Zeus had been correct in insisting that they put the village back together again. The three demi-gods' actions had done a lot to put the heart back into the village.

Dempsius and Demagius were less pleased, although no one could tell by their behavior. The twins danced as much as Hercules, smiled at the girls who begged for attention, and generally acted as Hercules did. Iolaus couldn't figure out what it was that set his teeth on edge. His own innate honesty drove him to admit that it might be jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, Iolaus knew that it was galling him to know that Hercules was happy to be among his own kind, among equals. The thought cast doubt upon Iolaus's worth to Hercules. Sure, Iolaus had fought beside Hercules on occasions too numerous to count. But would those occasions have gone better had Hercules been accompanied by two demi-gods instead of one short blond hunter?

Iolaus was forced to swallow a bitter pill: his distrust of the twins was motivated by feelings of inadequacy. That the thought made his shoulder throb all the more was a fitting punishment. He deserved it, for doubting Hercules' friendship.

Hercules approached, a glass of freshly-squeezed juice in his hand. He handed it to Iolaus. "How're you doing, Iolaus?"

"Fine," Iolaus lied, leaning back against the wall of one of the houses. He took a sip. It was sweet, and refreshing. "Great party. Having fun?"

"It's been a while," Hercules admitted. "Dempsius and Demagius look like they're having a good time as well. Demagius even told me that he's glad that I talked them into staying." He indicated the drink. "Dempsius insisted that I bring that to you. Said that a worthy fighter like yourself deserved something special."

Iolaus felt like spitting the drink out. He didn't want anything that came by way of either of the twin demi-gods. But that was unfair to the twins, and to Hercules who obviously valued their company. Look how well the twins had fought today to save the village. It wasn't their fault that Iolaus was jealous. He forced himself to take a sip. It did taste good, with an unusual sweetness to it. The next sip was more genuine. He held up the glass in thanks to the twins, who gave him a thumbs up while twirling around the dance square.

Iolaus refused to allow himself any further curmudgeonly behavior. "Go back to dancing, Herc," he told his friend. "I'm fine."

Hercules tapped him gently on the good shoulder. "That's what I like to hear. You'll be back on your feet by tomorrow." He stood up, and was carried away by a bevy of village lasses to be spun into yet another dance.

Hercules couldn't help but watch Iolaus, sitting in the shadows. He didn't like to admit it, but Iolaus had been far quieter than usual for the last few days, as though there were something on his mind. That was odd for his friend; Iolaus was the talkative one of the pair, the one most likely to make friends quickly with everyone and everything around. At first Hercules had put it down to being in the company of the demi-gods—anyone would have been overwhelmed by one, let alone two—but this had lasted too long and Iolaus too embullient to be overshadowed for long. There was something going on, and Hercules couldn't figure out what it was. The twins were certainly friendly enough to the mortal, and Iolaus had been quick to return their kindness by making and breaking camp on the trail. Hercules frowned as a thought crossed his mind: had Hercules himself done his own share of the trail chores? Iolaus hadn't said anything to the contrary.

As Hercules danced, throwing glance after anxious glance, he saw Iolaus sink down further into the shadows, leaning back against the wall of the house. He looked as though he were ready to fall off the log he was perched on. Hercules broke off dancing, apologizing to the girl he was with, and investigated.

"Iolaus?" he said, shaking his friend gently on the uninjured arm. "Iolaus, you're falling asleep."

"Mmph."

"I think it's time for you to hit the hay, my friend," Hercules said, sliding a hand under Iolaus's arm.

Iolaus's head lolled alarmingly.

"Iolaus?" Hercules shook his arm a bit more anxiously. "Iolaus, are you all right?"

"Herc?" Iolaus couldn't seem to focus. "So…tired…" He fell against Hercules's broad chest bonelessly.

Hercules grabbed him. "Iolaus! Wake up! Are you all right?" He looked around. "Someone get the healer!"

* * *

"Concussion," Dempsius opined. "What else could it be? He'll be fine in the morning."

"I knew that he'd hurt his arm, but I didn't see any sign that anything else had been injured," Hercules fretted. "And especially not his head."

"You told me he could be stubborn," Demagius agreed. "He may not have been willing to confide in you."

The wording struck Hercules as odd. "What do you mean, not willing to confide in me? We're best friends."

"Really, Hercules." Dempsius strove for a look of mild dismay. "How can a mere mortal possibly be your best friend? They're so…" he cast around for the right word, "fragile."

"It's like saying your pet goldfish is your friend," Demagius added. "I mean, they're fun to have around, but you can't take them out for a romp in a field without being ever so careful." He cocked his head. "You'd do better to come along with us to Athens, Hercules. We've got some important undertakings to do there, some labors that some of the gods have requested of us."

"If you really want to, you can pick up your mortal on the way back," Dempsius told him.

"I'm staying here," Hercules declared angrily. "It's my fault that Iolaus was injured. I should have been looking out for him."

"See that?" Dempsius pressed. "That's what comes of picking up stray mortals. You feel responsible for him. You feel guilty. It's not your fault, Hercules. The mortal chose to join in. He foolishly chose to fight a man twice his size."

"He's done it before, and won handily," Hercules argued. "Why this time?"

"His luck ran out," Demagius said. "Look, Hercules, stay if you like, but there are needy people in Athens. People who need our help."

"Iolaus needs my help," Hercules replied, stubbornness in every bone. "I'm staying."

* * *

Hercules found it impossible to sleep. He could have blamed it on his uncomfortable position, perched on a stool beside the pallet on which his mortal friend lay. He could have blamed it on the pesky fleas that jumped along the ground, seeking nourishment from the leather covering his legs.

But the reality of it was that Hercules blamed himself for Iolaus's condition. The hunter lay unconscious, barely breathing. There still wasn't any sign of any head injury, but the healer had told him that this sometimes occurred. That a man, seemingly hale and hearty after a rousing good fight, fell into a coma and drifted off to cross the River Styx to Hades' Realm.

"I should have watched out for you," he told the still form. "No matter how good a fighter you are, that bandit was still twice your size. I should have fought him for you. That's what I'm supposed to be about: helping those who need help."

There was a commotion outside. Hercules frowned; Iolaus needed sleep, not to be woken up at three AM in the morning. He got up to see what the fuss was about.

"Hercules! Hercules!" A small boy burst into the clearing. "Hercules!"

Hercules stood in the doorway. "I'm Hercules. What's wrong?"

"It's a monster!" the boy sobbed. "It's got my mother!"

"A monster!" Hercules looked back at Iolaus, clearly torn between two very real needs. "What kind of a monster?"

"A big one!" the boy confirmed. "It has sharp teeth, and claws, and breathes fire, and growls a lot! You have to help my mother!"

Dempsius and Demagius came around the corner, roused by the noise, rubbing sleep from their eyes. 

"Of course you have to go, Hercules," Dempsius said. "Demagius and I will go with you."

Hercules cornered the healer. "My friend Iolaus; are you certain he'll be all right in the morning?"

The healer shrugged. "He will either be all right, or in the hands of the gods. It's too early to tell."

"When will you know?"

"When he wakes up—or doesn't."

"That's not good enough," Hercules snarled.

"It will have to be. I don't have a better answer. I'm a healer, not a miracle worker," the healer told him. "If you can help your friend yourself, go ahead. I won't be offended."

Hercules looked back inside. Iolaus hadn't moved. He was still breathing shallowly, dark circles under his eyes. The healer was right; there was nothing Hercules could do for his friend.

But he could help this young boy. What would Iolaus want him to do? The answer was clear: go rescue this boy's mother. Hercules turned back to the healer. "Take care of him for me." He looked at the twins and squared his shoulders. "Let's go."

* * *

It was far. The child had clearly tired himself out, running to the village, so Hercules took him on his shoulder and carried him. The boy pointed out the way to the trio of demi-gods, torn between fear for his mother and delight at all the attention from denizens of Mount Olympus. Even the twins treated the boy kindly, sharing the burden of his slight weight with Hercules.

The boy stopped them in a small copse of trees. He pointed. "Through there, through those bushes," he said. "There's a cave. That's where the monster lives. That's where he took my mother. Can you hear her?"

Hercules couldn't. But one look at the boy convinced him that he'd better hope for the best, that the monster hadn't already killed the mother. "Stay here," he said. "I'll go see what's there."

"We'll go with you," Dempsius replied.

The cave appeared black and forbidding, though try as he might Hercules couldn't hear anything more than the wind ambling past the opening. Certainly there were no screams or whimperings of a frightened mother. There wasn't even the contented and sleepy breathing of a satiated monster with a full belly. All in all, it sounded empty. Had the child led them to the wrong place in his terror?

He turned to the twins. "I'll go in first. I don't hear anything yet. If I find something I'll call out to you. Then come in running."

"Go ahead," Dempsius nodded. "We'll wait here."

Hercules lit a dried tree branch, the torch lighting his way. The cave was smaller than it looked from the outside, barely tall enough for Hercules to stand up straight. It was also empty. The only thing inside was an old circle of stones, leftover from when some local hunter spent the night some fortnights ago. There were a few rat-gnawed bones along one wall, but nothing more; not even a stick picture adorned the cave walls. If a monster had taken the boy's mother here, Hercules couldn't see it. He turned to go. 

He found the opening to the cave being rapidly covered over by a brown vine. Despite its dried out appearance, the vine was clearly healthy: it had already, in just the few moments, grown enough to prevent Hercules from leaving the cave. Hercules pushed at it, intending to shove his way through.

And couldn't. The vine was tougher than it looked. And where Hercules had touched it, new brown shoots swiftly grew out, blocking his exit. This was puzzling; clearly it was something magical, something designed to hinder the passage of the demi-god.

Hercules grabbed the vines again, intending to rip it out. The vines excreted a sap that burned his hand. Hercules cried out, more in surprise than pain, and pulled his hand back, wringing it to shake off the sap and rubbing his palm against the stiff leather of his leggings. The vines grew swiftly and deeply into where he had grabbed them, filling in the hole with dangerous brown stalks.

"If this keeps up, I'll be trapped for good," Hercules muttered to himself, then raised his voice. "Dempsius! Demagius! Want to give me a hand here?"

"That's all you're going to get, Hercules: a hand." Dempsius bowed, irony in every line of his body. As he stood up, both twin demi-gods burst into mocking applause, hands clapping together. The noise was startling in the quiet of the cave. Hercules could barely see them through the curtain of vines, but as he watched the boy that he had carried on his shoulders fluidly morphed into a tree nymph, giggling at his plight.

"Hera sends her regards!" the nymph laughed, dropping a pretty little curtsey.

* * *

The sunlight hurt, so he tried to keep his eyes closed.

No good. The hut was empty; Iolaus would have to open his eyes to see where Hercules was. He couldn't hear any breathing, no sign that anyone else was nearby. But someone had to be. Iolaus couldn't remember a time when upon waking that Hercules wasn't nearby. Excepting whenever their paths diverged for a few days, but that didn't count. They'd always made plans to meet up again. That was the way it was.

Ah, there was the breathing, hobbling in through the doorway. Iolaus opened his eyes, and immediately shut them again: the sunlight stabbed all the way to the back of his head. The breathing belonged to the healer. Iolaus had met him yesterday after Hercules had very kindly and very swiftly relocated Iolaus' shoulder. The old man tottered over, noticing that Iolaus was awake.

"How are you this afternoon?" the healer croaked.

Iolaus ran through a mental inventory: headache, but the throbbing in his shoulder had diminished to a dull roar. He flexed it. Stiff, but usable. The worst part was his dry mouth. His thirst was a killer in itself.

"Thirsty," he admitted to the healer, his own words as creaky as the old man's.

The old man nodded, confirming a private thought. "Thought so." He held a cup to Iolaus' lips. Iolaus took it from him and drained it. The healer refilled the cup, and those contents too swiftly vanished. It was only by the third cup that Iolaus was able to slow down.

The healer's words penetrated the fog still clouding his brain. "What do you mean, 'thought so'?"

"You was drugged, sonny," the man cackled. "Didn't think you had it in you last night to hit on someone's girl. Thought you were down and not doing any dancin' with any lass that'd been taken, but you must have irritated someone." He leaned over to say confidingly, "somebody slipped something into your fruit juice last night. Knocked you on your keister. Thought it might have been sleepy juice when I saw you, but your big friend was so scared over concussion that I couldn't tell him it might just be an annoyed boyfriend tryin' to keep you out of the way. Big feller like him, he'd a bust up one of our boys on the spot, did he find out who it was."

Iolaus held his head in his hands, hoping that it wouldn't fall off. "Where is he?"

"Where's who?"

Now he hoped that his head fall off, and end his misery. "Hercules. Where is he?"

"Not here, that's for sure."

"I can see that."

"No, you can't. Your eyes are closed."

Iolaus reached out—with his good arm—and grabbed the old man by his sleeve. He gritted his teeth. "Tell…me…where…Hercules… is."

"He went off with the other two, he did," the healer said, wresting his arm away from Iolaus. "There's no need to get huffy about it. I was gonna tell you."

Iolaus' heart sank. Hercules had left Iolaus behind without even making certain that he was all right. The old Hercules would never have done that. Iolaus' jealousy flared.

He looked at his arm, still wrapped in a sling. It was sore and stiff, not the sort of condition to go fighting bandits with. Maybe Iolaus couldn't blame Hercules for going on ahead. The big question was: would he come back for Iolaus?

No. The even bigger question was: should Iolaus let him? Look at what a liability Iolaus had been. Couldn't even take down a silly bandit. Maybe Hercules would be better off with Dempsius and Demagius. Iolaus stifled a sigh. "I think it's time for me to move on." He didn't mean simply leave the village.

"Why don't you wait an hour or two until you can stand up without falling on your nose?"

"I can do that right n—"

The healer shook his head sadly. "Young fools. Never believe an old man. Dexter! Codan! Come help pick up this man and put him back to bed."

* * *

"So what's your stake in this?" Hercules asked bitterly. The cage of vines continued to grow, slowly now that Hercules wasn't battering at it, but growing nevertheless. The light inside the cave grew less and less as the vines covered over the opening. Hercules had tried pacing for a while, but that did nothing except stir him up. Finally he had sat down on a rock. Brute force wasn't the answer. Maybe sweet reason would be. Only the nymph was left to guard him. Why, Hercules couldn't tell. It wasn't as if the son of Zeus was going anywhere.

The nymph cocked her head at him. "Why, Hera told me to, of course."

"Of course. Why else would you be doing this, instead of hiding in your tree?"

"I don't hide. I live there."

"Oh, excuse me. I thought you didn't like to come out."

"I don't."

"Ah. So why did you do it this time? What hold did Hera have over you to force you to do her bidding?"

"Hera didn't force me," the nymph piped up angrily. "Nobody can force me to do anything."

"That's right," Hercules agreed, the glimmerings of a plan coming together. "Nobody can force you to do anything. Not even Hera. I'll bet she couldn't even make you take down these vines, could she?"

"Like to see her try," the nymph giggled. The noise was starting to nauseate Hercules. But giggling was what nymphs did.

"But I know that she wants you to keep the vines here." Hercules lowered his voice to a confidential level. "Tell me; how did she force you to keep the vines up?"

"She didn't!" the nymph squealed.

"She must have," Hercules observed. "Otherwise you would have chopped them down by now. Hera must have forced you to keep them here."

"Nope." The nymph's giggle came a little easier. "Nobody can take them down. Nobody except for a mortal. And no mortals know you're here. You're stuck like a bump on a log."

It was true, Hercules realized. The only mortal who would come looking for him was Iolaus, who was lying unconscious in a healer's hut. Hercules looked around the cave; it was still empty. Hercules already felt hungry, and the sun wasn't even up to noon.

Not a pleasant place to be.

* * *

Iolaus felt better this go around. The headache was gone, his shoulder almost back to normal, and he was on the road, enjoying the sunshine on his back.

He should have been enjoying the sunshine. The truth was, he admitted to himself, was that he missed Hercules. He missed the excitement, the camaraderie, the sheer pleasure of Herc's company.

Hercules, though, was better off without Iolaus. Of that Iolaus was certain. No more worrying over a mere mortal, no more taking the heat for Iolaus. Dempsius and Demagius could hold their own with Hercules. They were fit companions for the son of Zeus. 

Dempsius and Demagius were headed for Athens, so Iolaus deliberately took the road in the opposite direction. The more distance he could put between them, the easier it would be to leave the past behind. Maybe he ought to travel? He heard of a town called Rome, supposed to have really great food and wine, not to mention pretty girls. Perhaps he ought to go visit it. Or go on a nice ocean voyage, maybe visit Hibernia. His footsteps grew slower and slower as he traveled more and more leagues.

* * *

"Keep quiet, stupid!" Dempsius hissed. "He'll hear you."

"No, he won't. He's a mortal. He can't hear anything."

"Just because he's mortal, doesn't mean he's deaf. Shut up."

"We gotta kill him," Demagius insisted. "It won't matter if he hears us after he's dead. He's going to rescue Hercules. How did he figure out we went this way, instead of toward Athens? We gotta kill him. If he followed, he was supposed to think that we all headed toward Athens. Why is he traveling this way?"

"Maybe he won't find Hercules. Mortals are supposed to be a little on the slow side, Demagius."

"_Maybe he won't find him_," Demagius mocked in a sing-song voice. "Don't count on it, Dempsius. This one's a hunter. You know how hard it was to pretend to bump into him during that fight?"

"No. How hard?"

"Plenty hard. He may be mortal, but he's a good fighter and plenty smart. I think he suspects us. And if he finds Hercules, he may be able to help him escape."

"Naw. No god, or demi-god, can escape from the Ensnarement Vines. Hercules is trapped."

"A mortal could do it. That's what the nymph said."

"Yeah?" Dempsius asked. "How?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

"Nope."

"So if we don't know, and Hercules doesn't know, do you think a mere mortal would know?"

"You've got a point," Dempsius conceded. Then he brightened. "But you know that Hera wants Hercules to suffer. Wants him to be really miserable."

"Right. That's old news, bro."

"How about if we let Iolaus find Hercules?"

"And how will that make Hercules suffer?"

"It won't."

"So why are we going to do it?"

"Because Hercules will suffer if he watches the mortal die in front of his eyes, and not be able to do anything about it."

"Iolaus looks pretty healthy to me."

"He does now. He won't if we catch him."

Demagius brightened. "Pretty smart, brother. You really got it together upstairs." Then he frowned. "Is that why Hera likes you better than me?"

"Does not."

"Does, too."

"Does not."

"Does—hey! He's getting away!"

* * *

Three sets of tracks, all large men moving swiftly and purposefully. One man was heavy-laden, as though carrying something. They headed off into the woods, through the trees. There was no real purpose to Iolaus following the trio, but he felt the need to resume his former profession. Tracking was part of hunting, and following the tracks felt good and natural.

And right now, feeling good had become a priority. The more steps away from Hercules he took, the worse Iolaus felt. Like he was abandoning his best friend. Never mind that it was the best thing he could do for Hercules. Hercules would be better off without him. So learning how to live without Hercules had suddenly become a lot more important, and resuming the activities of Iolaus' previous profession was part of that.

Iolaus left the road, following the tracks of the three men, noticing that at least one set of footprints looked familiar. He looked closer. It was the heavily laden man, which would make sense if it were Hercules. Herc always insisted on taking the heaviest burden. But what would Hercules be doing on this path? He was supposed to be on his way to Athens, with the twins.

Iolaus never could resist a mystery. He set off through the woods, following the tracks.

The trees became more dense, the underbrush heavier, but that only helped the small hunter. More bushes meant more signs of the three passing by, which made Iolaus' job of tracking easier. So easy, he reflected, that he could follow this trail in his sleep. There was a scrap of clothing here, a broken twig there. He snorted; child's play.

The trees opened up into a clearing, the footprints milling around. Obviously the trio had paused here and looked around at that brown vine-bush thing at one corner of the clearing. Hercules had put down his burden, although Iolaus couldn't find any trace of what that burden was. It simply appeared that Hercules no longer carried the heavy object or person. There wasn't any additional set of footprints, and no scuff marks where a sack had been placed on the ground. Iolaus looked up, searching for signs that a carry-sack had been looped over a branch, but there was nothing.

He listened; only a whisper of a breeze ambled through the clearing. Sunshine wound its way through the upper tree branches, making this a cool and refreshing spot to relax. The scent of fresh foliage tickled his nose, tainted, though, by the faintly unpleasant aroma emitted by the brown vines that crawled up the side of that rock.

Not a rock, Iolaus realized, but a cave, with a dark interior. It must have taken the vine years if not decades to cover the opening so thoroughly. Nothing could get through that curtain of foliage.

Yet the footprints indicated that Hercules and the twins had investigated it in detail, peering in and around and through. Iolaus looked at the tracks again. One set of footprints—Hercules'—demonstrated that Hercules had entered. And there wasn't a return set showing Hercules coming back out. How could he do that, without disturbing the curtain of vines?

Iolaus got a bad feeling.

"Hercules?" he called out tentatively.

"Iolaus!" There was a scrambling inside the cave, and a shadow approached. Iolaus could barely make out Hercules' features through the brown vines, but there was no mistaking the warmth and relief in his voice. "How did you get here so fast? Never mind; just get me out of here. The nymph said that no god can remove these vines, only a mortal."

"I'm on it, buddy." Iolaus pulled out his knife and hacked at the first tendril.

The tendril fought back the best way it could: it grew. Where ever Iolaus cut, two sprouts shot up, filling in all the holes. Iolaus couldn't make any headway.

"Don't give up, Iolaus," Hercules implored. "There has to be a way. I can't even touch the thing. It burns my hand with its sap."

"Not a problem on this side," Iolaus reported. "Right now I've got plenty of sap on my hands—"

"—and a sap on the inside of the cave—" Hercules interjected wryly.

Iolaus ignored him. "—and my hands are fine. Obviously the sap is only harmful to the gods. It's just frustrating. This bush is getting thicker, not opening up. However did you get in here?"

"The twins," Hercules groaned. "This was all a plot by Hera."

Iolaus nodded. "I should have known that she would have a hand in this somewhere. Where are they? Did they leave you to die of starvation?"

"Nope," announced a cheery god-like voice. 

"We came back to make more trouble," said another.

* * *

Iolaus flew through the air and connected with a large and unyielding tree. He slid down the bark and landed on the unforgivingly hard dirt.

"Ow," Dempsius commented, rubbing his face where Iolaus' fist had landed. An ugly bruise was already forming. "That hurt."

"You're telling me," Iolaus muttered. He desperately hauled himself to his feet and swayed there.

"Leave him alone!" Hercules yelled frantically. He beat at the brown vines, oblivious to the stinging sap that oozed onto his hands and arms. "Pick on someone your own size!"

"You're missing the point, cousin." Demagius picked up Iolaus by the vest, hammered in a couple below the belt, then threw the blond hunter up into the air. Iolaus spun around a horizontal branch a couple of times, then flopped to the ground. This time he didn't get up. "We're teaching you a valuable lesson. Mortals are fun to play with, but you really shouldn't get too attached to them."

"So we're going to take this one away from you and give him to Hades, coz," Dempsius added. "Hades knows how to keep mortals in their place. Look at Tantalus, doomed to stay hungry and thirsty for all of eternity. That what you get for pissing off the gods. And Hera is seriously annoyed with you, Herc."

"Dempsius, Demagius, please don't do this!" Hercules begged.

"Of course we will. Hera's having a great time." Dempsius gestured to the peacock that had sauntered into the clearing to observe. Hercules could see through the bird's eyes into the essence of Hera that inhabited her favorite fowl. "She's been waiting a long time for—whoop!"

Dempsius's legs flew out from underneath him, courtesy of a round house sweep delivered by one down but not yet out mortal. Iolaus sprang to his feet with much of his previous vigor. Hercules' heart flew up with him.

Then Iolaus dizzily crumbled to one knee. Demagius grabbed him, seizing him by the head and pulling him into a lock with his arms pulled behind him. Iolaus was pinned. He hung limply in Demagius' grasp, beaten.

"Enough," Dempsius growled, rubbing his backside where he'd landed on the hard ground. His humiliation hurt even more than his bruises. "This grows tiresome." From the edge of the clearing, the peacock screeched in agreement. "You want to know what mortals are good for, Hercules? Watch and learn. They're good for dying. That's why they're called mortal." With that, he plunged his belt knife deep into Iolaus' gut.

Blood spurted forth. A look of total shock sprang onto Iolaus' face, but his gasp of agony was completely overtaken by Hercules' roar of anguish. 

Demagius let Iolaus slip to the forest floor. More red blood oozed out, staining the fallen leaves red. Hercules battered at the vines, at the cave walls, with all of his strength, desperate to escape.

"I think he's a mite peeved," Dempsius observed. "Think he can get out of there?"

"Naw." Demagius looked again at the vine-covered cave. "I don't _think_ he can. Those walls are pretty solid."

"And the vines can't be passed by any god. Or demi-god."

"On the other hand, if he does get out, we'll be in for a serious whuppin'."

"It's two against one."

"But he's Hercules."

"Oh. Right." Dempsius looked around. The peacock had vanished. "Hera's gone."

"Yeah." Demagius thought for a moment. "Don't we have important stuff to do in Athens?"

"That was just a story. We were trying to get Hercules away from his pet mortal."

"Well, we _could_ have important stuff to do in Athens."

Dempsius considered. "I think you're right, bro. We have important stuff to do in Athens. I think we'd better leave right now. Before Hercules finds a way out of that cave." He turned back to the enraged son of Zeus who was still kicking and pounding at the stone walls. "See you later, Herc."

"Damn you, Dempsius! You and your brother! You'll pay for this! I'll bring you to justice on Mount Olympus!"

"Ta ta, coz." The pair hustled off into the underbrush, wasting no time to leave Hercules safely behind.

"Iolaus!" Hercules sank to the floor of the cave, spent. "Iolaus, say something! Don't die!"

Iolaus grinned. It was a feeble attempt but feisty, and ruined by the trickle of red that leaked out one corner of his mouth. "Been there, done that. Don't want to do it again," he choked out.

Hercules had only once felt such despair, when he had arrived home to find his wife and children dead. He had doubted his ability to live through it then, and he doubted his ability to do it once more.

"Iolaus, hang in there," he begged. "I'll get us out of this somehow." He looked around. "It takes a mortal to get through the vines," he muttered. "What did the nymph mean? I'm half mortal, and I couldn't do it. She must have been wrong. Iolaus couldn't hack through. There must be a way." If only he could find it, and soon. "I should have sent Dempsius and Demagius on their way the moment they came into view three days ago," he lamented. "You knew they were trouble, Iolaus. I wish I had listened to you."

"I wish I'd tried to tell you, instead of sulking," Iolaus returned. He coughed again. More blood trickled down his chin. "This never would have happened if I'd gone to you and talked about how they were treating me. I thought that you were happy to be among your own kind for a change." He tried to laugh. "Great. I think I've just confessed to causing my own death by bull-headed stupidity."

"You're not going to die," Hercules insisted. "There has to be a way out of here!" He slammed at the cave wall with his hand. The earth rocked, shaking Iolaus outside. "Damn!"

"Take it easy, Herc," Iolaus begged. "There are some of us dying out here." The joke came out flat. The hunter gathered himself up, lurching to his knees and clutching his wound with one hand as though trying to hold himself together.

"What are you doing?" Hercules asked. The situation did not look good. Iolaus could take days to die, screaming in agony as infection took hold of him, and Hercules would have to watch every moment of it, unable to help or to intervene in any way. He began to understand Tantalus' torment.

"If I'm going to die, I'm going to do it having touched your hand once more." Iolaus was serious, all humor fled. He crawled to the cave. Hercules was barely able to make out his shape through the curtain of vines.

"You're not going to die!" Hercules insisted. "I'll find a way!"

"Now say it like you mean it, Herc." Iolaus allowed himself to collapse against the vines. They held his weight easily, only bending in slightly to accommodate his shape. Iolaus couldn't help the whimper of pain that escaped his lips as he eased himself into a sitting position. 

When he caught his breath, he continued. "Back up a little, Herc. I don't want you getting burned by the sap."

"What are you doing?" Hercules asked suspiciously. "You can't get in. I can't get out."

"I told you, Herc. I'm not going to die without touching your hand once more." Iolaus lifted his hand from the hole in his belly. It was covered with blood, but Iolaus was beyond noticing. "I'm going to slip my hand through the vines." He inserted his fingers through the nearest crevice in the vine curtain, hoping to pry his way through.

At the touch of his blood-covered fingers, the vines shrieked and heaved. Sturdy shoots of brown withered and died. A small hole appeared.

"Iolaus, that's it!" Hercules cried. "Touch the vines with your blood! Your mortal blood! That's what the nymph meant!"

"Great. And I spilled a lot of it crawling over here." Iolaus touched his wound to take up more of his own blood, then applied it to the vines. They sizzled and crumbled. "I hope I have enough left."

_I hope so, too_. Hercules left the thought unvoiced.

* * *

"You've been waiting on me hand and foot," Iolaus complained. "Take a break."

"Just making up for not doing my share on the trail," Hercules replied mildly. He searched Iolaus' face anxiously for any sign of returning fever. "You had me scared." _Three times_, he wanted to add. _Three times I could see Hades' image,_ wavering in the corner of the traveller's hut where he'd carried Iolaus' still form, praying that his best friend would live. "Here," he said, helping Iolaus to drink from a cup. 

Even that small an effort caused a sweat to break out on the man's brow. "Thanks," he gasped, allowing Hercules to settle him back on the rough pallet. "What about Dempsius and Demagius?"

Hercules' face darkened. "They heard that I'd gotten out of their trap," he said, adding, "they're still running." He paused. "There's no place they can go that I won't find them."

Iolaus gave a little grimace. "Let it go, Herc. They're not worth it."

"What do you mean? They almost killed you!"

"Vengeance isn't worth it. You've got more important things to do."

Hercules smiled, understanding. He placed his hand on Iolaus' shoulder. "_We've_ got more important things to do, Iolaus."


End file.
